by Mary Stone
“What’s that, puppet?” he taunted. “Are you trying to say something?” Light glinted off the needle of the syringe he still held in his hand.
She thought she gasped, but her body didn’t cooperate. Cold settled into her fingertips and toes, moving inward with frightening speed. She opened her mouth again, forcing herself to try to speak even as darkness crept in, and her thoughts grew jumbled.
His laughter filled the car.
Though her body grew cold and frigid, the darkness lingered on the fringes. She was still awake. Paralyzed, but awake. She was breathing, but even that took monumental effort, and every time she didn’t actively force her body to inhale and exhale, it simply stopped those most automatic of movements. Was she going to die?
The man shoved her into the seat behind the driver and leaned over her.
Her arms were heavy as lead. She couldn’t move to push him away, and though she tried to fight whatever drug he’d given her, the only thing she managed was a pointed blink in his direction.
The seatbelt clicked, and the man sat back, smiling at her. “There we are. Wouldn’t want you to get injured should we have an accident.” He patted her leg. “You’ll be safe back here. Now, don’t move, or you’ll be sorry.” He wagged a finger at her playfully, laughing at his cruel joke. “Blink once if you understand, twice if you’re plotting my death.”
The second time her eyes closed, she had to force them back open. She glared at him, even though her mouth was slack, her breath loud and labored.
He laughed again and brushed a tear from her cheek. “You are a sassy young thing. I can’t wait to see how long it takes you to break. But we’ll need a second subject.”
The car braked to a halt and the man opened the back door, getting into the front seat again. “Go down that road.” He pointed, turning his attention to the man in the driver’s seat. “They usually hang out there, even in the rain.”
“Yes, sir.”
“There. Do you see her? She just rounded the corner, on the left. Tough looking thing. Too bad she isn’t a redhead, but that can be fixed quickly enough.”
The car sped up, splashing through shallow puddles, headlights sparkling on the wet pavement.
The man leaned forward with glee, scanning the night, a huge smile splitting his face in the unnatural yellow glow of the dim streetlights.
Ellie tried to scream out to warn the woman, but little more than a groan followed by a hiss of air escaped her frozen lips.
Her kidnapper chuckled as he turned to Ellie. “You can’t protect her. Like you, as soon as I laid eyes on her, her fate was sealed. Too bad she didn’t think of staying in tonight.” He turned away, again focused on his prey.
When the car was right beside her, the prostitute turned with a smile on her face. Sauntering near, she placed her hand in the open window, eyes hooded. She was clearly high. “What’ll you have tonight, gentlemen?”
“Just you.” The man in the passenger seat stroked the back of her hand as it lay on the doorjamb.
“It’s twenty a throw unless your friend wants to join, then it’s sixty. For three hundred, you boys can have me all night.” She leaned in and grinned at the driver, licking her lips.
“I’ll take option four.”
“But I didn’t—”
The man in the passenger seat grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of the woman’s head and slammed her face against the doorjamb. She stumbled in her heeled boots in a stupor, collapsing back onto the wet concrete. Blood dripped from the wound on her forehead, leaving droplets on the sidewalk as she pulled herself back to her feet.
She tripped, then regained her footing and tried to run, but the bad man was already out of the car. He grabbed her straight blonde hair, pulling her back so forcefully that her feet came out from under her and she landed hard on her tailbone on the sidewalk. She whimpered when the needle plunged into her neck.
Picking her up, she was tossed into the back beside Ellie, bouncing off the seat and rolling to the floorboard.
Hands on his hips, their kidnapper stared down at the woman for a moment. “Red will be better on her,” he said before he shrugged, and slammed the door.
“Run!”
The shrill scream had Jillian on her feet almost before her eyes were open, stumbling through the unfamiliar apartment in the dark.
When Ellie let out an otherworldly shriek, Jillian’s skin crawled. She burst through Ellie’s door, ready to do battle.
Ellie writhed on the bed, moaning in what sounded like agony. Her pale pajamas were bathed in the silver light of the moon streaming through the bank of windows above her headboard.
She was alone.
Jillian let out a heavy sigh, relief making her rigid body sag. Hurrying to Ellie’s side, she touched her shoulder and spoke softly. “You’re safe. You’re home and in your bed.”
Ellie gasped, her eyes going wide as she sat straight up in bed and flailed her arms wide.
“It’s me, Jillian.” She grabbed Ellie’s hand. “Look at me. You’re safe.”
Ellie turned toward her, blinking away the nightmare. Her lips trembled, and her body shook as she focused on Jillian. “We were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Sometimes, it happens like that.” Jillian perched on the side of the bed and began rubbing Ellie’s arm.
“The woman I-I…the woman who sat across from me in the room was a sex worker. He smashed her face on the car door and drugged her, just like he drugged me.”
“Did you see him?”
Ellie shook her head. “Just his mouth.” She frowned, staring into the darkness of the room. “The interior lights were off, including the instrumental panel. The only time I saw his face was when we passed a streetlamp.” She shuddered. “That poor woman. She was the only one working after the storm. If she’d just gone home…she was so scared.”
“You’re remembering more.” But Jillian knew it was taking a toll, and she hoped when all was said and done, Ellie would be better for it, after her captor was behind bars.
Ellie nodded, her fist clenched in her lap. “Not much more, but yes. I got a better look at the driver this time, though not his face. He could’ve been Eddie Bower, but not Steve Garret. His voice was wrong for Garret.” She shifted, fidgeting with the sheets wound tightly around her waist. “And I don’t know how much of the dream was an actual memory versus my brain filling in the blanks.”
“I’m sure that’s frustrating.” Jillian couldn’t imagine being haunted with a scene like that in her dreams. She might have never gone to sleep if she had to face something so terrible.
Ellie shivered, pulling her hand away and rubbing her bare arms with her palms. “I still feel like I’m in the car.” She shoved at the duvet and untangled herself from her blankets. “I can’t stay in here.”
Jillian followed her into the living room, Sam falling in line behind them. When Ellie sat on the larger of the two couches, Sam jumped up and snuggled beside her. Jillian ducked into the kitchen to get them both a glass of water.
“Thank you.” Ellie’s hands still trembled slightly as she put the glass to her lips and drained half of it in a few gulps. “Why can’t I just remember? It’s there on the edge of my mind, just begging to surface. But every time I try to call it up, my brain just shuts down.”
“What did Powell say?” Jillian tucked her feet up under herself on the loveseat across from Ellie.
“I can’t force it.” She sighed, picking at her pajama pants. “I didn’t even really recognize the woman when I watched the video, but I was there when she was captured.”
“There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
“Everyone keeps saying that. Even so, I tried, Jillian. I really tried to scream and let her know that she was in danger.”
“Were you gagged?”
Ellie’s mouth was tight as she shook her head. “No. He injected me with something. I couldn’t move anything but my eyes.”
“Ketamine, maybe. It makes you
immobile, and there’s no pain. There’s also a side effect of memory loss, but not everyone experiences that the same.” Ellie tilted her head questioningly, eyes narrowed and zeroed in on Jillian. She shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve read a lot of crime fiction novels.”
“Did you happen to read up on how to counteract the memory loss?” Ellie asked before her shoulders slumped. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be snarky.”
“I get it. You’re upset and angry, just like anyone in your situation would be. And no, there hasn’t been much research done on retrieving lost memories, but there was a study that found a correlation between being a natural redhead and waking up from anesthesia during surgery.”
Ellie’s forehead wrinkled, and she scowled. “Dammit.”
“What?”
“I had something, then it was gone.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”
“Can I do anything?”
Ellie glanced at the clock. “It’s too early to call it a night.”
“Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
“I can’t go back to my room. Not tonight.” She wrinkled her nose, casting a glance around the living room. “I can still smell the rain.”
“I understand.”
Ellie’s green eyes were almost pleading. “Can you and Sam stay in here with me tonight?”
“Of course.” Jillian smiled, willing to do that and more for a friend who had let her move in because she was having issues with her creepy landlord. “I haven’t had a sleepover since I was a kid, and Sam isn’t going anywhere fast.”
Sam groaned and raised one eyebrow without picking up her head from Ellie’s lap.
“Thank you. I just don’t feel safe knowing that he’s out there, and that video…”
“It’s no big deal.” Jillian grabbed a neatly folded blanket from the wicker basket beside the loveseat and tossed it to Ellie. “Is it okay if I leave the kitchen light on so I don’t wake up disoriented?”
Ellie nodded, lying down and tucking a throw pillow under her head. “I want to believe that he isn’t somewhere close, completely obsessing over me. But he named the video, The One That Got Away. I don’t know how else to take that.”
Jillian wondered if she should tell Ellie the truth about what she thought and decided it might be good to confirm her fears. Fear provoked safety first. “Honestly, I’d be surprised if he went on with his life without giving you a second thought. Monsters like that don’t usually take defeat well.”
“I’ve thought about that a lot. My story had the potential to be big news here in Charleston, but not a lot was written. I wonder now if my parents bribed the newspapers. Still, there were a few articles.”
“I’m sure it was impossible to keep your ordeal a complete secret, given your family status and the fact that you were only fifteen.”
She snorted. “I was still in the hospital when my parents hired Elite Personal Security to protect me from another ransom attempt. They did everything they could to keep my name out of the press, but a few blips went out.”
“If he didn’t know who you were before, he did after that.”
Ellie shook her head. “I’m sure he had no idea in the beginning. He never once said my name. But I didn’t remember that back then, and so I couldn’t explain to them why I thought the ransom angle was wrong.”
“Like it or not, the added security was probably why the man didn’t come after you again.”
“But what’s stopping him now? What’s to say the next person who comes through that door won’t be him?”
“Twelve years later? That would be a hell of a grudge.”
Ellie frowned, letting the silence draw out until she said, “He can only kill surrogates for so long.”
Jillian’s heart skipped a beat, then raced, beating painfully against her ribs. “Do you think he chooses the women he does now because of you?”
“The thought has crossed my mind. If not, he has a very specific type.”
“It could be both.”
“That’s what scares me. It’s been a long time since his last kill. Is it because we pinned the murders on Bower and Garret and he’s laying low, or because he’s changing things up? He could already have his next victims. Or there could be bodies out there, still undiscovered. Or is he waiting for me?” She pushed her hair out of her face and took several deep breaths. “No woman in this city is safe as long as he’s out there.”
“Let him come for you. This time, you’ll be ready. You’re not a defenseless little kid anymore. And Sam won’t let anyone near you.” Sam’s tail thumped once on the couch. “He won’t get to you without a fight, so don’t lose sleep over him. When he comes, we’ll be ready. I guess I need to get a gun, though.”
Ellie managed a smile. “You’re right. He has no idea what he’s up against.” She snuggled beneath the cover, adjusting herself around Sam, who was already snoring.
Satisfied that Ellie was safe and almost asleep, Jillian arranged the throw pillows and a light knit blanket on the loveseat and settled in for the rest of the night. Her eyelids were growing heavy when Ellie whispered her name.
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
22
The constant droning of the man’s high, nasally voice made my teeth hurt even though the expanse of my desk separated us. Still, he kept going, convinced that his story was one the whole world couldn’t wait to hear. He couldn’t pay me enough for this torture, but it wasn’t his money I was interested in.
More than any other client, this man had potential. I was itching to twist him into a blubbering mess, which was better than he deserved.
“What do you think, Doctor?”
This time, I was ready for him to drag me into his monologue at the most tedious moment. It was one of the things he did consistently, a smug expression crossing his face whenever he thought he caught me mentally checking out. I tamped down the rage that filled me, frowning and shrugging one shoulder. “I think you have a lot of work to do if you want to move forward.”
He blinked, startled by my reaction. “I was under the impression that I’d made some significant headway. Now you’re saying that I haven’t?”
I glared at him over my reading glasses, folding my hands on the heavy wooden desk in front of me to drive my point home. “That’s where the need is, unfortunately.” My heavy sigh had him on edge, the smug smile wiped from his arrogant face, fingers dancing nervously on his thigh. “While you enjoy having a captive audience for your stories, you must know how they sound.”
“I don’t, apparently.”
“Hmm, I was afraid of that.” I grimaced, as if sorry to have to tell him. “I’m not just here to support you in your growth, but to stop you from slipping into old habits.”
“I’ve been so careful,” he said, his voice thin and high-pitched.
“I don’t think you have.” When he recoiled, my chest swelled with delight. “You’ve gone from being trampled on by people to using them to improve your life. That’s not growth, that’s something only a narcissist would do. People don’t exist to enhance your life.”
“Well, I don’t see it that way.”
“Of course, you don’t.” I gave him a placating smile. “That’s part of what makes the human psyche so delicate. You’ve self-corrected, yet somehow you’ve managed to swing the pendulum toward the other extreme. A little like the tires of your car dropping off the edge of the road, and overcorrecting, only to end up wrecking on the other side after all. All your hard work is practically garbage at this point. We’ll have to start again. That’s why I cautioned you against skipping sessions.” I settled back in my chair like I had a hundred years to kill.
“You told me I could start coming every other week.” His voice caught, his eyes turning glassy. “Didn’t you?”
“I know you’re doing your best, but I’m sure you can see how frustrating this is for the people around you. Such a burden, really.” I scribbled on my notepad, not writing any
thing down.
He licked his lips, eyes wide and nostrils flared.
For a split-second, I thought he was going to challenge me. I straightened my shoulders and arched a single brow at him.
His puffed-up chest deflated, and he leaned back in the chair, lowering his head. “I must’ve misunderstood.”
Manipulating him was almost too easy. I reached out a hand, patting the air in a gesture of comfort. “You don’t need to be ashamed. We all make mistakes.” I paused, as if thinking through my next statement. “Some of us more than others.”
He stiffened, and his shoulders shook. The confident man who’d sauntered into my office half an hour before dissolved in a wash of pathetic tears. “I really am trying my best, but I always seem to mess things up.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “I thought the sessions were helping, but it looks like I’ve wasted your time. I can’t do anything right.”
My smile was genuine when our eyes met. “I’ve enjoyed working with you.” It wasn’t a lie.
“I appreciate all you’ve done to help me. I just wonder if I’ll ever let go of my narcissism and learn to treat people around me more kindly.” He sniveled. “I’m surprised I have any friends at all.”
“Do you?”
He considered the question for a moment and shook his head. “I doubt it. You must think I’m horrible.”
The worst. “Never thought anything of the sort. You’re a good person inside. Most people are, some just have to dig deeper to find it.”
“What’s the point if I can’t see my own faults clearly enough to change?” He gave another choked sob. “I thought I was doing a good job. I’m not trying to manipulate you into thinking that or anything. I swear, it’s the truth.” He gritted his teeth. “Is it the truth? Argh, I can’t even trust my own lying tongue. Why should you?”
Delightful. I relaxed in my chair, crossing my ankles. “Tell me, have you found your coworkers pulling away more than they once did?”
He immediately shook his head. Freezing mid head turn, he frowned. “Now that I think about it, Delilah has been a little more aloof than normal.”